Of the Panther Persuasion (MF)
[Siren Classic: Erotic Paranormal Romance, Public Exhibition, Orgy]
Shalamar lives comfortably, but she has a secret--a secret that ranks up there with creatures that go bump in the night. As the Pantherian Heir and a refugee from another world, she lives quietly, sating her desires with human men and wishing she could find others like herself. When she’s invited to Stallion Acres to meet another of her race, one who’s filthy rich, she’s plunged into dangers which threaten her life and that of her unexpected, newfound love and life mate, Drayden Parks.
Nahdia is wealthy and power-hungry. She intends to establish shape-changers on Earth and make this world hers, but when Shalamar’s secret is revealed and she thwarts Nahdia, she must fight to save Drayden’s life as well as her own. When the others turn on her, she must flee back to her world. However, the price of returning home might be too high.
A Siren Erotic Romance
He pushed into her and lay still until she adjusted to his size and his body weight. “I claim you,” he said.
“You can’t,” Shalamar gasped. “It’s not your right.”
“Yes, it is. You are now mine. I’ve searched a long time for a mate, and now I’ve finally found you.”
“Mate? I don’t believe you.” Her pussy throbbed, her body hummed with sensation, and any minute now, Shalamar would shirk every misgiving and secret she had for just a few moments of pure, raw sex.
He withdrew from her. The cry of distaste that flew from her lips urged a chuckle from him. He moved so quickly it surprised her. Rolling Shalamar onto her back, Drayden settled between her thighs, popped the front clasp on her bra and entered her again. He shifted positions, raising himself until he knelt with her ass against his crotch. He drew her legs up so that the backs of them lay over his thighs and she could rest her boot heels on the tops of his calves. Desire arrowed through Shalamar so hard she moaned. When she wanted to be submissive, this was her favorite position. She loved looking at the rapturous expressions on her lovers’ faces, enjoyed watching the muscles work in their chests, abdomens and arms as they thrust into her over and over.
Shalamar looked up at Drayden. His hands gripped her hips, a storm cloud of lust in his eyes. The coil inside her wound tighter, and for an instant, she struggled with herself, fearing she would climax. A stinging sensation passed along her skin, and she battled harder with her body. The pending orgasm was one thing, but the intense electrical itching was something she had to control. There was no other choice, but the more Drayden tantalized her flesh, the harder it was for her to fight the transformation.
“I know what you are, Shalamar,” he said and pushed deeper into her until the root of him snuggled tightly against her mound. “I smell it. You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”
She opened her eyes, and shock flowed through her. At first, Shalamar thought she was so delirious with sexual energy she’d imagined his transformation. Drayden began to change, his body morphing. Short, velvety, rust-colored hair sprouted on his face. His nose and mouth broadened into a muzzle, the nostrils curling into that of a big cat’s. Cropped red fur appeared along his arms, grew out on his chest, shoulders, and down along his sides to his thighs where her hands bit into them, drawing him closer. Blinking, she realized that she had, indeed, witnessed his change, but he wasn’t a true shifter. No, Drayden Parks was something different, but yet she still smelled the essence of her home world in his pheromones.
“What are you?” Shalamar questioned. Although the change surprised her, she still wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him!
He thrust harder, filling her and nudging the opening to her womb. He felt so good, so right. Since Shalamar had fled the home world, she’d been searching for her mate, but none of the homeland males in the area were adequate, and human males were only good for sex. She had to find that one true homelander, her life mate who was destined for her. Together, they were to return to Lavendanth and take it back from those who had conquered it. Well, that was the legend, but Shalamar had since learned that legends were full of shit.
So, who or what exactly was Drayden Parks?
He began pounding into her. The knot of sensation inside her grew tighter. She met each of Drayden’s thrusts with an upward motion of her hips, each movement sending a comet of pleasure straight to her core. He released her hips and fondled her breasts, his fingers kneading gently. Groaning, she arched her ass higher, determined to match his escalating pace.
“Oh,” she said. “Yes, more!”
“You’re,” he grunted, pumping harder, “mine, Shalamar. You will remain mine, forever.”
“Please, just fuck me.” She let go of his thighs and flung her arms over her head. “More. Harder.”
He growled low in his throat. The muscles in his chest flexed and tensed. His hips drove into hers over and over.
“Yes!” Shalamar breathed.
She didn’t know how or why, but she knew Drayden was right. No male had ever affected her body like this, no male had ever made her want to be totally subservient and just enjoy his cock piercing her body, their juices mingling, breathing harsh, bodies slick with sweat. He could fuck her for all eternity and she would be a willing participant, allowing him to have his way with her. Any position, any place, any time as long as he just fucked her.